


Reborn

by shewhowritesofbloodandtime



Series: Phantasm [2]
Category: Original Work, Phantasm (Movies)
Genre: 1860s, 19th Century, Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Body Modification, Body Worship, Broken Promises, Character Study, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Forehead Kisses, Healing Sex, Heightened Sensations, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Lotus Flower, Missionary Position, Neck Kissing, Older Man/Younger Woman, Orgasm, Slow Romance, Small Drabble, Soft Thrusting, Soul Bond, Stitches, Strangers to Lovers, Tender Sex, Tenderness, Touching, Undressing, Victorian Attitudes, Woman on Top, lovemaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 11:11:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17917649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhowritesofbloodandtime/pseuds/shewhowritesofbloodandtime
Summary: A deleted scene from "Original Sin," chapter fourteen. Read at your own discretion if you like. It's nothing more than fluff.





	Reborn

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is basically a "deleted scene" from my fanfiction, "Original Sin." 
> 
> SPOILER: This "scene" happens before the young man Aaron appears in the middle of chapter fourteen (which is technically thirteen, as I made the prologue on here chapter one). Before you bite my head off by saying this isn't anything like the character, this is circulating in the timeline of "Oblivion" when he was still Jebediah Morningside. He's described as a sweet-tempered, kind HUMAN gentleman; if you're looking for the entity who says the canonical phrase of "boy," y'all need to look elsewhere because he doesn't say it here. 
> 
> Other than that, this is just basically fluff between two consenting, of-age adults. I don't own Morningside or "Phantasm," as I only own Christine. 
> 
> PS: The music to listen to whilst reading this is Abel Korzeniowski's "Reborn" from the first "Penny Dreadful" soundtrack.

Her small form entered my bed and with her blue eyes looking into mine, I felt the warmth of her blood against my skin. Her fingertips found the fabric of my high stand collared shirt. Slowly, she plucked each button apart and her bare breasts found mine then. My long, willowy arms enclosed around her and I felt her bodily heat. I tried to object but her fingertips had found my lips. Softly, slowly, they brushed along the creases.

"Christine..."

My first instinct was to cup her breast. Though small she was, they were mounds of lush flesh. Her nipple was a raw rose color, and as I kneaded it, it grew erect against my thumb. Her lips found mine and I kissed her with utmost gentleness. Her breath was warm on my tongue, and as I held her instinctively, I clung to her roughly. I grew embarrassed then by my reactions, and I shied away from her.

"What's wrong?"

"This," I said. "This is wrong. You're young, beautiful, intelligent with a life ahead and I'm an old man. Quite literally. I have been on this earth seventy-two years, and you're only twenty-two. Don't you see the difference?"

"I do, I see the difference. But my love, age is just a number..."

Christine shocked me then when she carefully pushed me down onto the bed. My head was caught by the pillow, and she was sure to be mindful with her strength, where she lay me down. I felt her move in between my legs and her fingertips worked the fly of my trousers. I sat up on my elbows and watched her. The cream color of her nails shined against the brass button, and as she unzipped me, I felt her hands pull down my undergarments as well. I looked away to the side with awe and horror combined in my eyes.

I saw her kneel upright then and unlace the strings of her nightdress. The pale lace fell off her white-crème shoulders. Her breasts were so swollen, so large, and they seemed so ripe. I turned my head back to face her and I saw her nightdress pool around her knees. Her knickers were the only thing remaining and she removed those as well. Her pubis was pronounced and yet so soft, a radiant cloud of brown. Her thighs were softened and before I could have a moment to speak, she moved her legs to sit upon either side of my hips.

"Christine, what are you...?"

Her hand reached between our bodies and she gently took me into her fingers. I felt her heat there upon her slit. It felt like warm droplets of honey. She hadn't waited for me, and with every careful precision, she lowered herself onto my phallus. The way her walls gripped me made me see ethereal stars. Her veins, her muscles― they clenched onto me once, then softened enough to let me slide into her deeply.

" _Oh, God_..."

Her lips tensed. I could them shake, grow wet as she licked them. I felt something else other than her wetness come upon my member. Looking down to her soft little cunny, I saw the blood. Her blood, blessing me and worshiping me altogether.

The deeper I went, the more I heard her cry from either pleasure or pain. I dug my fingers into the softness of her hips and I sat up slowly. Her legs wrapped around me and that drove me to her cervix with every inch I had.

Her hips rode me then back and forth, and as I brought my lips to her throat, I licked and suckled there, bruising it gently, tenderly. I scraped my teeth against her flesh and she softly cried out in the tiniest voice. With my strength, I wrapped my arms under her legs and pulled her up onto me, whereas I threw her down onto the bed itself and pinned her beneath my frame.

The more I moved inside her, the more her small hips craned into mine. I moved into her at a pace that was neither fast nor slow; I slid in and out of her sweet cunny and felt my tip nudging at her cervix. The more I did that, the more Christine's eyes watered. Her lips kept trembling and I had the longing to lick them, kiss them. Her fingers slid through the strands of my silvery-white hair, and she kept me wet, warm.

Each thrust seemed to conjoin us in the burning candlelight. Her collarbone was shadowed by the flickering of the flames, with the hollow of her throat in the vicinity of my teeth. Somehow, there was an urge inside me to keep thrusting _deeper_ , _harder_. I could see the need and want in her eyes.

"Please," she sighed, moving her hips up against mine. "Please..."

Over and over again, she kept whispering it as I kept inside her. Slowly, I gathered my strength and picked up my pace. Her folds entombed me with her heat, her wet honey. I started to push into her harder and she started to cry and kiss me altogether.

"Christine, I can't..."

"You can, my love― _pour into me, I'm begging you_."

A few more thrusts further into her, hard and deep, I heard her crying louder and her legs shaking around me. She trembled around me and hit her orgasm. Her tears fell from her eyes and swept their way across her temples, soaking her hair. I could feel my seed building.

My phallus ached and the heightened sensation in my veins grew more intense. Her hands found my face and she cupped me closely. I felt my throat tense as I groaned, and finally, as her lips found mine, same for her tongue, I hit her cervix hard enough and let my own fluid course into her. I could feel it sinking deep into her flesh and running wet, warm towards her womb.

Her folds twitched around me and I could feel her shaking like a leaf. With a warm instinct, I sat up and held her there. I wrapped the blankets around her waist and hid her, shielding her from the chill that came in through the window. Her sweat was hot, a sheen of itself, and I nurtured her as if she were a newborn lamb, which, in a way, she truly was.

With a tender kiss of only lips, we caressed each other in the flickering dark.

For me, she discerned three words I never thought I'd hear from the lips of someone like her.

" ** _I love you_**."


End file.
